I thought I knew what hospice was. In the past week, I have learned just how little I do know. Hospice is not just for people who are dying. Can you believe that? Indeed, many who enter into hospice services are facing their final days of life, but many, upon receiving hospice care, are stabilized and actually removed from service. They can re-enter hospice later, if needed, though not all do. Hospice is as much about providing end-of-life care to caregivers and family members as it is to offer comfort and palliative care to a patient. I've come to believe that the real beauty of hospice is to free families and individuals to live full lives for whatever time they have remaining, able to be fully present to one another, to share memories, to say "I love you," and also "goodbye."
For the summer, I am serving as chaplain for Diakon Hospice St. John (DHSJ), part of Diakon Lutheran Social Ministries. This is part of my Clinical Pastoral Education (CPE), a significant period of training for those going into any type of pastoral care ministry. DHSJ has an office site, so its personnel travel to various care facilities and patient homes. I've spent a lot of time on the road, which is, in a way, a blessing, because it gives me time to process the encounters I've had before moving on to the next one. Our patients range from those with good mental acuity to those who are completely non-responsive. Some have dementia or Alzheimer's, but many simply have bodies that have run their course while their minds remain clear.
I am still learning how to prepare for my visits as the hospice chaplain. Sometimes, the patient has a strong relationship with a congregation and receives pastoral visits from his or her own clergy. In those cases, my visits are a supplement, providing a ministry of presence between visits from the patient's pastor. My mentor, the DHSJ chaplain, has been such a wonderful model for me! She's known as "the singing chaplain" and loves to sing to patients, especially old hymns that still resonate even in the most clouded memory. I have found this to be a great comfort to me, particularly with those patients who cannot respond to me or those who are confused and unable to articulate coherently. I will often get a response - a smile or a touch - where there was none before. The Lord's Prayer and the 23rd Psalm can generate a similar response. It never ceases to amaze me how an aging mind can recall events and songs and phrases from so long ago when there is no memory of even five minutes before.
I can't even begin yet to fully process this hospice work. Sometimes I struggle to know just what to do or say, especially when the patient is trying so hard to communicate but just can't. Even a touch can produce fear or obvious discomfort in the patient, even if its intent is to indicate care and concern. All I can do, mostly, is pray...a lot. I know that God is already present; I do not bring God there. This is very important for me to remember. This is God's work. I stand on holy ground with each encounter. Please keep me in your prayers as I engage in this daunting responsibility.
